


Always Will

by innocent_until_proven_geeky



Series: Autistic Echo [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Autistic Character, Autistic Clone Trooper Character, Autistic Echo, CT-7567 | Rex (mentioned) - Freeform, Descriptions of Sensory Overload, Echo is autistic. I don't make the rules. I only enforce them., Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mild panic attacks?, No Beta We Die Like Clones, Sensory Overload, Specifically panic attacks brought on by sensory overload, and i mean you do you i guess since i don't have a dni, autistic sensory overload, but like. don't share it and claim it's romantic., descriptions of panic attacks, not romantic - Freeform, since i know some of you will probably want to interpret it that way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:15:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27621929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innocent_until_proven_geeky/pseuds/innocent_until_proven_geeky
Summary: It's not the first time Echo's had to deal with sensory overload aboard theResolute, but it's the first time he doesn't have to do it alone.
Relationships: CT-21-0408 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555
Series: Autistic Echo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961929
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64
Collections: Echo&Fives





	Always Will

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** This fic describes sensory overload in detail (specifically, the way I experience it, I'm projecting, fight me). It also sort of describes a resulting panic attack, I guess you could say. I don't know if I personally consider panic attacks separate from sensory overload, but Echo is definitely having a Hard Time today so just. Be safe!

Everything is awful.

Echo has his helmet jammed onto his head, canceling as much noise as it possibly can, but it’s imperfect. It’s not designed to be noise-canceling, only noise-reducing, and even then only on the range or in battle so that the sound of blasters (or heavy artillery) doesn’t damage their ears, and

And it’s so loud in the mess hall, hasn’t been this loud since Kamino, and he’s still grieving. He lost Cutup, Droidbait, Hevy, and

And he hasn’t slept right in days and he’s exhausted, and the lights on this ship are so much brighter than the lights at the Rishi station, and the only time he can get away from them is during his barracks’ night cycle or if he locks himself in a closet somewhere and

And he knows he probably looks ridiculous. They’re supposed to be eating, for Force’s sake, and he’s sitting at the corner of the table, perched on the bench like he’s about to flee, with his helmet on and sealed.

Everything is, most decidedly, awful.

The weight of a hand on his spaulder startles him back into some semblance of the _here_ and _now_ , and his stomach lurches. Before he can register that it’s just Fives, just Fives, just Fives, he’s running off to somewhere _quiet_.

He realizes when he runs out of breath and his body shakes that he hasn’t eaten recently, that the entire idea of food was too much and that he had his helmet on and forgot to uncover his mouth to eat, and he’s going to regret that when they have gym time, he knows, but he just. Can’t eat, sometimes. Textures and flavors--he doesn’t want the extra input.

Tears prick at his eyes and burn in his nostrils and he decides that he can’t breathe with this damned bucket on, and he rips it off and takes a great gulp of air and

“Echo?” a soft voice floats down the hall at him, but even that is too much, and he can’t get away can’t get away can’t get away.

He jams his helmet right back on and decides to lock himself in his locker, if he can fit. The blacks hanging in there should muffle some noise, and, though the lockers are ventilated, not enough light gets into them to cause a problem. He takes stock of where he is, and he’s already halfway to the barracks, so he walks stiffly there and

His blacks scratch at him and

The weight of his armor is stifling and

He still can’t breathe under his _kriffing bucket_.

The barracks are blessedly empty. None of the brothers who normally finish with their meals early have found their way back to the bunkroom to play sabacc. Echo opens his locker and eyes it.

He’ll have to take his armor off, and even then it will be a tight fit, but he can squeeze in and probably even close the door.

Practiced hands mean nothing when he can barely control his fine motor skills, and he fumbles at each clasp and strap of his armor while he removes each plate. When he gets to his cuirass, the weight removed is so freeing that he feels like he can actually breathe again.

It takes five minutes to remove his armor, far longer than normal, but finally everything is stacked neatly on his bunk and his blacks don’t press or scratch anymore and he steps into his locker with his helmet still on, slides down to the floor with his knees bent up to his chest, and closes the door.

He takes his helmet off and holds it in his hands, running his fingers along the smooth, cool plastoid alloy. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the back wall of the locker, cold metal, soothing, and relaxes for the first time in what feels like months but is really only two weeks or so.

It’s quiet, finally, so quiet he can hear his breath and his heartbeat and the faint rustle of fabric as he moves. Even the ventilation system of the bunkroom is soft. He could almost sleep like this.

He still notices, however, when the door slides open.

“ _Eyayah_?” someone says, and it’s muffled by his blacks but somehow Echo knows that it’s Fives. Only Fives and Rex use the Mando’a translation of his name, so he has a fifty-fifty chance, but… it’s Fives. It’s definitely Fives.

Footsteps walk over to Echo’s bunk, clanking a little on the durasteel flooring, and then there’s the sound of plastoid hitting plastoid.

“ _Eyayah_?” Fives says again, only it’s more panicked now, and Echo doesn’t want Fives to worry about him, so he pushes open the door to his locker (do clones hide in their lockers often? how come he can open it from the inside? and of course he didn’t really think about that when he got in, so it’s good that he can).

“Force, Echo,” Fives says with a shaking breath when he sees his brother behind the locker door. “You scared me.” He takes in Echo’s face, streaked with tears, the way he holds his helmet and closes his eyes against the light and Fives’s voice. “What’s wrong?” he asks, quieter this time. He sets down Echo’s greaves on the bed, neatly just like Echo had them, and goes to meet his brother halfway.

“It’s too much,” Echo says, and he can’t help repeating himself ( _palilalia_ , an unhelpful voice at the back of his mind supplies), “it’s too much, it’s too much.”

“Okay.” Fives nods along as if he understands. “Is the light too much? I can comm the captain or the sergeant and ask someone to turn it off.”

Echo nods, and he thinks he might cry again because Fives is helping, Fives is helping, Fives is helping, and not _judging_ , because Fives loves him and Fives cares and Fives is his brother and--he takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“Whoa, _vod_ ,” Fives says gently, reaching his hands out to steady Echo, but Echo shrugs the weight off. “Okay,” Fives replies, “no touch. Got it.” He brings one wrist to his mouth and says, “Hey, Cap? This is Fives. Is there any way we can get the lights turned down in our bunkroom?”

“Something wrong, Fives?” Rex replies, his voice grainy over the commlink.

“Just too bright. Echo and I haven’t gotten used to it after Rishi.”

There’s a pause, and then, miraculously, the lights actually do turn down. “You two are odd,” Rex says. “Let me know if I can do anything else.”

Fives nods sharply, even though Rex can’t see him, and turns his commlink off. “Do you want to lie down, brother?” he asks Echo.

Echo thinks about it for a moment and then nods. He shifts to move toward his bunk, but he sees the armor on it and is reminded and--he can’t--he gasps again.

“Okay, overwhelming. How about you take my bunk, yeah? And I’ll take off my armor and climb up after you. You okay sharing?”

“Sharing,” Echo repeats, and then realizes that’s not really an answer an allistic clone would understand, and tries again. “Sharing is good.”

“Okay. Give me your bucket.” Fives reaches out his hands, and Echo places his helmet obediently in them. “Now climb up. I’ll be right there.”

Echo hoists himself up into Fives’s bunk, the one just above his own, and lies down so his back is against the wall. He listens to Fives’s clattering, grateful that his brother is trying to keep the noise to a minimum, and shuts his eyes.

It doesn’t take much more than two minutes for the bunk to shift with Fives’s weight. “Need a hug, _vod_?” Fives whispers.

Echo hums, then turns around so his back is to Fives. Fives wriggles next to him--the space is not meant for two full-grown men--and eventually has his arms wrapped around Echo, and this time the weight and the warmth is reassuring and not uncomfortable, not too much. Fives rests his chin on top of Echo’s head, and Echo smiles, sighs just a little.

They lie like that until the rest of their squad comes in to prep for their hour in the gym, and as soon as the first two squabbling brothers enter the room, Fives his shushing them and covering Echo’s ears for him. “It’s too loud, brothers,” he whispers.

It’s the way his squad reminds each other to be quiet that really does it for Echo, though. He thinks he might cry again, if they keep being nice like this.

Fives drops to the floor first and helps Echo down. “You’re okay, _Ey’ika_ ,” he whispers, just far enough away from Echo’s ears that it’s not an extra sensory input to deal with. “I’ve got you. Always will.”

**Author's Note:**

> **Mando'a**
> 
> I don't think I used a whole lot today?
> 
> _eyayah:_ echo (like the noun); often used as Echo's Mando'a name within fandom; _vod:_ brother; _'ika:_ diminutive suffix; used here as a diminutive of Echo's name (ey'ika) and as an affectionate form of "brother" or "little brother" (vod'ika)
> 
> Check me out on Tumblr! [Ver Writes Things](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ver-writes-things) is my writing tumblr, and [neurodiverse-clones](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/neurodiverse-clones) is my Star Wars tumblr!


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